


Rise, Like the Sun, and Burn

by Slytheringirle



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (this is not a crossover), Apollo/Icarus au, Greek God Enjolras, I'll add more tags as the story goes on, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 22:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirle/pseuds/Slytheringirle
Summary: Based on the prompt:  'Grantaire and Enjolras as icarus and apollo'.Enjolras (Apollo) is fed up of the way the things are run in Greece and decides to take action starting by the Labyrinth in Crete. There, he meets a sarcastic brunet stuck in a tower with his father. Grudgingly, Enjolras rescues him, not knowing that this man will play a major role in freeing Greece of the current system and his heart with it, from the walls he so carefully constructed.





	Rise, Like the Sun, and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my beta for going over this chapter and I want to claim ownership over any typos found here.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own neither Les Mis nor Greek mythology (but imagine if I did)

“That’s sick,” muttered Enjolras, a look of disgust etched into his face at the sight in front of him. There were thousands of stands surrounding the labyrinth, each made of shiny silver that had fancy designs engraved into it. Dark green vines laced each stool’s legs, adding a rich colour to the cool silver. Each row was placed higher than the one before it to provide the audience with a perfect view of the event. 

“It is,” agreed Combeferre. “But remember, you’re here to figure out the structure of the place, where everything is and how it works. You can’t make anyone suspicious, Enjolras. Or else you won’t be able to help. Not now, not next year, not ever.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Enjolras agreed. He had gotten special permission from Zeus to attend this year. Gods weren’t usually invited in fear that they would get jealous of King Minos’s kingdom, all the beauties and mysteries in it, and end up taking over it. But he wasn’t afraid that one of them would intervene with the competition, no, he had Soteria cast spells on the labyrinth for that. 

“When will the event start?” He asked, hoping to get started with everything soon.

Combeferre pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch before answering. “Ten past nine, about three hours till the horns sound.”

“Perfect,” grinned Enjolras, a plan already forming in his head.

**_**

“Courfeyrac!” Hissed Enjolras the moment his friend appeared.He was hiding in a shadowed alcove, the only spot not covered by the full length windows that formed one third of the hall. Courfeyrac double-checked that no one was around before slipping into the alcove. “Chief,” he greeted, and Enjolras couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the title, a smile threatening to break through. 

He forced himself to regain his composure, and faced Courfeyrac. They were here for a reason, they can’t afford to get distracted. A chance like that may never come up again. “So?”

Courfeyrac seemed to sense the situation and sobered up. “Everyone is in their position. The maids in the kitchen, participants “-_ participants, _as if they had a say in the matter!-” in the training room with the tutors and Minos with his counselors, probably for the grand opening. The servants’ path to the labyrinth is clear and should remain so for the next two hours, but you should come out half an hour before that because that’s when the audience start to file in, they’ll be able to see you.”

Enjolras nodded grimly. “I wish we had come earlier,” he muttered.

“We’re lucky we got to come at all,” replied Courfeyrac with the same grave tone.

True, he thought. Out loud, he said. “And Combeferre?” 

“He managed to sneak into the prep room to check out what weapons the participants are supplied with. I’ll be standing guard at the entrance and I’ll flash you if anyone passes by. I just you wish you’d let one of us come with you.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, you two have already sacrificed too much for me, and if we get caught…” He shook his head. “I can’t ask more of you.”

“We love you, Apollo.” Said Courfeyrac, using his much hated name. “But if you think we’re willing to sacrifice that much for _ you _…” The black curled man smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s for the cause, remember?”

“Of course,” echoed Enjolras, not finding it in himself to fake a smile. 

“Stay safe,” said Courfeyrac, squeezing his shoulder. “And remember, I’m two flashes away. Oh, I almost forgot,” the brunet took off the backpack slung over his shoulder and handed it to Enjolras. He didn’t need to say what was inside it.

He threw his friend a grateful smile before stepping out of the shadows and into the sun-lit hall. He strode confidently across the vast space and towards the gate on the other side, acting like he owned the place. A tip he’d picked up from the various times he had snuck into another god’s court as a kid, too young to be recognised by the servants as another god’s offspring.

The path to the labyrinth was empty, just like Courfeyrac had promised. With every step he took he felt excitement bubble up inside him. They had been discussing this for years, but had only been able to get permission to attend this year, and it had been only for the three of them, the rest of their hadn’t been allowed to come, no matter how much he argued with his father. If they had come their chances of succeeding would be higher, but then again, they were lucky to be here at all. 

As he came closer to the labyrinth, however, his confidence started to fade. How was he supposed to face a Minotaur four times his height and eight his width? And what if he got killed before he had time to figure out anything? Then he would’ve just wasted his friends’ time and given them the trouble of explaining why he has been found dead in the middle of the labyrinth. No, he had to make it through this. 

He turned left, following the instructions Combeferre had given him this morning, and found himself facing a plain wooden door that he knew to be the back entrance to the labyrinth. He allowed himself a moment to gather his courage before opening the door and stepping in, closing the door gently beside him as to not attract unwanted attention. He found himself standing in a dark hallway with a soft glow at the end. Curious but scared, he continued down the tunnel -if you could call it that- and saw that it led directly into the labyrinth.

Perfect.

Abandoning his fear and second-thoughts, he took out the labyrinth map Combeferre had given him this morning and set down the path, magically producing a trail of light behind him that only he will be able to see. He owed it to his friends to find the Minotaur. 

**-**

The walk through the maze was surprisingly smooth, but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. The creatures aren’t released till a quarter of an hour before the horns sounded. And even then, these creatures weren’t the problem, almost all the competitors were able to get through them without a notable injury. No,it’s the Minotaur that was deadly. How were a bunch of children expected to outlast it? The thing was literally half man- half bull.

He walked in silence for another fifteen minutes before he started hearing the Minotaur. He’d hoped it’d be asleep, but when was luck ever on his side? After a few minutes, he started to see the Minotaur's shadow, so he stopped and took off the backpack Courf had given him. Opening it, he saw what he already knew would be inside it. Smiling, he took out the extra large sheaf and slung it over his shoulder before reaching for the bow. He then threw the empty backpack on the grass, and concentrated on it for a moment. The bag burst in flames that burned nothing but the silk. Once he was sure that there was nothing but ash left, he resumed his path. 

Five minutes after he’d continued his way, a golden flash appeared in the air, distracting him for a moment. He had to suppress a smile at the sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind the warm feeling that spread inside him. It was nice to know that his friends had his back, that they’ll always be there, no matter how much he pushed them away. Just then, a movement caught his eye. Backing into an alcove formed buy a bush and a tree, he took an arrow from the sheaf, placing in it in the bow instinctively. 

And he wasn’t a second too early.

Before him, the Minotaur had risen, it’s ugly roars filling the air. The beast was swinging it’s fury arms upwards, shielding his eyes from the sun as he searched the labyrinth. Enjolras knew that it was ten minutes to eleven -being the sun god and all-, meaning that the Minotaur should be asleep, he’s not to be woken up before half past eleven. He also knew that the sun shouldn’t be this strong that early in the morning, but the Minotaur was scaring him, he can’t control it. The beast was obviously looking for something, or rather someone. And considering that Enjolras was the only one in here, he knew without a doubt who the creature was looking for.

He had two choices; wait for it to find him, or attack it first. He quickly contemplated the choices in his head and decided on the latter. He might not stand a chance if the Minotaur saw him, no matter how skilled he was. So he shot the arrow swiftly and pulled another from his sheaf, slipping further into the shadows as the Minotaur turned to his direction, the arrow in it’s arm a dead give-away. 

He’d hoped that it wouldn’t have to come to this, because then it would be obvious that someone had been there, that _ he _had been there. He managed to squeeze between two bushes and come out from the other side, cursing his inability to use a spear or a javelin all the while. He quickly shot another arrow from his new spot -striking the beast in the chest, but barely managing to draw out any ooze- before moving somewhere else. He continued doing that for the next five minutes, shooting an arrow and moving into another spot before the Minotaur spotted him. Every last arrow struck home, but just over half of them were able to draw pus, and even less caused any injury at all. He was running out of arrows fast -he hadn’t expected to need to use them, so he’d packed just over a hundred- and as he was shooting his second to last one, the beast spotted him.

He ran without a second thought, slipping between every bush, the arrow well out of his mind. At some point, a strong odor filled the air, causing him to get a little nauseous, but he ignored it in favor of running for his life. The further he ran the stronger the smell became, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he slipped between two trees, breaking the pattern he’d been following. 

That proved to be the worst mistake of his life. 

The Minotaur was standing in front of him, his looming figure more threatening up close. He was sure that the other people on the island had noticed the Minotaur's movement, and were probably calling for backup. He picked up the last arrow, but before he could slide it into the bow, the Minotaur spotted him and leaned down, engulfing him in its crushing grip. He tried to fight but the smell was making him dizzy. He felt the bow and arrow fall from his as the Minotaur raised him. It roared in his face before throwing him out of the labyrinth.

The next few moments were a blur. 

The rushing wind was deafening in his ears, but that was all he was able to register before he felt himself bounce against something electrical and fall to the ground with a thud. He immediately felt a hand grab him and got to his feet, coming face-to-face with Courfeyrac. His friend looked ashen, but before he had time to say or do anything, Courfeyrac pulled him and ran towards a field surrounding a beaten up tower.

“Where are we going!?!” He cried as he tried not to stumble over his own feet. He hadn’t had time to catch his breath from the fall and now Courfeyrac was running like the devil himself was on their tail -which, frankly speaking, wasn’t all that unimaginable.

“What’s going on?” He cried as he pulled his hand back and caught up with his friend. 

“I’ll explain later,” cried Courfeyrac back, not turning to look at him. 

They soon reached the beaten down tower and Courfeyrac slid behind it, pulling Enjolras in with him.

“Okay, will you explain what’s going on?” He hissed. He had been too scared to look back, but hadn’t heard or smelled anything. Meaning that whoever or whatever they were in danger from wasn’t in that much of a rush to get them.

“I will,” said a voice from his right and he looked up to see Combeferre appear from behind a tower’s curve. “But first-”

“No buts,” he said firmly. As much as he loved his friends, he wasn’t going to follow them blindly, now when they were clearly in danger and he was the reason they were here.

Combeferre sighed, but agreed. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. “There had been a change in the plan last night, and I didn’t find out about it until after you entered the labyrinth.” -Enjolras felt his heart drop at that-”They plan on starting everything half an hour earlier, hence the minotaur’s activeness.”

“I tried to send you a signal,” continued Courfeyrac, “but I only had time to send you one flash before they set the hell-hound on me.I lost it before you came-”he snorted at that-” but I wasn’t willing to take chances.”

He was confused now. “Wait, _ why _were they chasing you?”

Courfeyrac looked sheepish. “About that… Apparently, there was a guard at the viewing towers that I overlooked.”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” And he meant it.

But Courfeyrac shook his head. “It _ is.” _

“It-”

“We don’t have time for your little antics,” said Combeferre sharply, cutting them off. “We have to figure out how to get into this tower, it looks abandoned and that’s probably the last place they expect Zeus’s son and his minions to go to.”

He wanted to tell them that they weren’t his _ minions _, but a voice cut them off. 

“You have a better chance of returning to your daddy unscathed than entering here.” Said someone from above the tower.

He took a couple of steps backward in order to see who was above the- No, the voice was coming from _ within _the tower. There was a grinning dark-haired man with curls more unruly than Courfeyrac’s and a slight stubble.

“Who are you?” He asked, craning his neck to look up at the man.

“No one,” he replied simply. “And I stand by what I said earlier. You have a better chance of returning to Zeus unharmed than entering this tower.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because we’ve been trying to get out of here for years.” Said an older man, appearing beside the brunet.

He frowned. “And why are you here?”

That caused the younger man to laugh, a hollow sound with no mirth behind it. “You’re better off not knowing.”

He wasn’t going to argue with them right now. “Listen, we need a place to hide in for a couple of minutes. Can you help us? We’ll return the favour, I promise.”

The older man snorted. “I don’t doubt that.”

But the other man rolled his eyes. “What part of we’ve been trying to get out of the goddamn place for years didn’t you understand?”

Enjolras wasn’t giving up easily. “You’ve been trying to get out from the _ inside _, what about the other way round?”

The brunet looked like he wanted to pull his hair out, but the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them try,” he said. “They’re more than us. If they manage to get in, then we’re free. If not…” He shrugged. “Well, they’re the ones getting harmed.”

Just then, Courfeyrac appeared at Enjolras’s side. “What do you mean we’re the ones getting harmed?” He shouted at the men. “Will we get trapped in there with you?”

“No, but Minos will get you, and trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

Courfeyrac frowned, but Combeferre -did he apparate here?- shook his head. “I say we take our chances.” He muttered. “It’s not like we have any other options.”

Enjolras was reluctant to agree. “Okay, how do you suggest we get in there?”

“You’re Hecate’s son,” Said Courfeyrac, turning to Combeferre. “Can’t you make the bricks magically part or something?”

Combeferre shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his face. “She took away my powers, remember?”

Courfeyrac went red in the face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot.” He muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Combeferre shook his head. “It’s okay. Let us focus on this.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Enjolras, grabbing the attention of his friends. “We could-”

He was cut off by a bark from behind the tower. “I saw them go there,” cried a voice, unmistakably a guard's.

Enjolras paled. “We don’t have time,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“There is a pathway that leads to the dungeon underneath the tower,” said the younger man from above, causing Enjolras to whip his head upwards.

“Why didn’t say that earlier?” He snapped.

The man shrugged. “They’re going to search the place, trust me. It’ll only buy you five minutes if you’re lucky. It’s disconnected from the tower though, you can't get through it from here. You have to go down the hill over there”-he pointed to a hill ninety feet away-”you’ll find a statue in the valley there. Pull at it’s left hand. An opening will appear in the ground, go through it. You can close it and open it the same way from underground.”

He looked up at the brunet gratefully. “Thank you,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster.

But he just smiled crookedly. “Anything for you, Apollo.”

The blond scowled, but Courfeyrac grabbed his arm and pulled him along with him before he could say anything else. Just as they started running, a javelin was shot, it passed between them, narrowly missing their ears. 

Enjolras looked over his shoulder as he kept running and a dozen guards chasing them, throwing javelins left and right. “We have to fight back,” he cried at Combeferre -who was a couple of feet ahead them- and Courfeyrac.

“We can’t!” Cried Combeferre back, “We don’t have any weapons on us.”

“But we have to slow them down,” he argued. “Or else going to the dungeon won’t buy us anytime.”

He couldn’t see Combeferre’s expression, but Courfeyrac looked like he was considering it. “You have a point,” he said at least. “But how?”

Enjolras grinned, coming to a halt. “I have an idea. But first do you have a mirror?”

His friends had stopped with him, though Combeferre was still ahead of them. “I do,” Said Courfeyrac warily, pulling out a hand mirror from his front pocket. “How- oh!” Realization dawned on him.

He smirked. “Yeah.”

He took the mirror and opened it, turning to face the guards -who were a couple of feet behind them. He twisted the mirror so that one side was facing skywards and the other guards. He concentrated all his power on the sun, willing it to shine brighter. The rays that reflected off the mirror, accompanied by the sudden increase in heat, told him that he had achieved his goal. The guards shrieked in sudden agony as the light their eyes, blinding them for -hopefully- a few minutes.

He pocketed the mirror and turned to his friends. “Come on,” he said, and they resumed their running. 

They were climbing up the hill now, but when Combeferre stopped when they reached the top. “It’s faster if we roll downwards,” he said as he laid down, all business like.

Courfeyrac was grinning as he followed suit. Sighing, but knowing that his friend had a valid point, Enjolras layed down along with them. 

“On three,” said Combeferre. “One… Two..”

Courfeyrac rolled down before Combeferre could say three. Cursing, he followed suit, leaving no option for Enjolras. 

He was the last to reach the valley, and found that Courfeyrac had already opened the entrance. “It’s a slide,” said the brunet gleefully.

“Courfeyrac,” he hissed. “Can you be serious for a moment?”

“Don’t be a fun-spoiler,” said Courfeyrac with a grin before sliding downwards.

“It’s now or never,” muttered Combeferre before following suit.

With a last look over his shoulder, Enjolras followed his best friends. 

The slide was cool beneath him, gently lowering him into darkness. As soon as he hit the ground, the entrance above him slid shut, leaving them in utter darkness.

“So what now?” Asked Combeferre, echoing Enjolras from earlier.

“Hold on,” muttered Courfeyrac. He had the air of a man concentrating on something, so no one spoke. After a moment, a burst of light erupted from Courfeyrac’s hand, creating a small pool of light around them.

After his eyes adjusted, Enjolras saw that Courfeyrac had lit a twig. “Huh, guess being the son of Hephaestus does pay off,” said Enjolras. 

Courfeyrac’s face hardened. “There is nothing wrong with my father,” he said firmly. “I’d do anything to get rid of my mother’s looks.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Enjolras, “I-”

Courfeyrac shook his head, “No, I’m sorry. I over reacted.”

“You didn’t-”

“You two can continue later,” said Combeferre, stopping them mid-bicker once again. “Remember, we don’t have much time.”

They both nodded grimly and started walking down the tunnel they found themselves in along Combeferre, exploring as they racked their minds for a plan.

“We have to get out of this island,” said Combeferre.

Courfeyrac wolf-whistled. “Hear, hear.” 

Combeferre rolled his eyes and Enjolras was torn between grinning at his best friends or rolling his eyes. They’ve been dancing around each other for ages, he wished they would just snog each other senseless already.

“Can’t you just fly us out of here?” Asked Courfeyrac, turning to Enjolras.

He shook his head. “The other gods have probably noticed what’s going on by now, my father is, without a doubt, beyond enraged right now. I’d rather not take my chances. Combeferre…” He looked up at his friend hopefully. “You can control the wind,” he said. Can’t you fly us back to Olympus?”

“I can,” Started Combeferre. “Theoretically…” He sighed. “I’ve never tried flying people before, let alone myself. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“It’s our only choice,” said Enjolras. “Unless you have any other plans.”

Combeferre sighed. “No, I don’t. But can you have something to back us up if we fell? Maybe it’ll help me fly us.”

“I can convince Poseidon to have our back,” he said slowly. “But I wouldn’t put much faith in him.”

“You can sacrifice something to him.” Said Courfeyrac.

“Huh?”

“You can sacrifice something to him, convince him to really back us up if something happened.” He repeated slowly.

Enjolras was silent for a moment as he flipped the thought over in his head. But there was not much to think about, really. It was a take it or leave situation. “Okay,” he agreed. “But one of us will have to sneak into the kitchen.”

“What!?!” His friends exclaimed in unison.

He sighed. “There isn’t much we can sacrifice here, but my uncle has always had a soft spot for coffee. I say we give it to him as a tribute, burn it or something.”

“I can do it,” said Courfeyrac at once. 

Enjolras nodded. “Great. But we need to get our hands on some weapons before we go out to the open again.”

Combeferre shook his head. “The shore is close, I saw it from the palace this morning. If the guards haven’t come here yet, this means that they think we ran to someplace or another. The clearing should be... Well, clear.”

“Okay, you go there, Courfeyrac goes to the kitchen, and I’ll go back to the tower.” He ordered, finally regaining his position as a leader.

“The tower?”

He shrugged. “I can’t leave these two men, they clearly have no means of getting out.”

“You don't know anything about them,” argued Combeferre. “They could’ve lead the last attack on Olympus for all you know.”

But Courfeyrac was on his side. “No, he’s right. There’s something awfully familiar about these men-not in a bad way-, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Enjolras smiled at that. “And if they _ did _lead the last attack on Olympus… Well, that’s just another reason to bring them along.”

Combeferre held up his hands in defeat, recognising a lost war when seeing it. “Fine, but you should all be at the shore in half an hour.”

“Okay,” the two agreed in unison.

“And I suggest we hurry.” Continued Courfeyrac. “This twig isn’t going to last much longer, and I don’t have anything else to burn.”

“We just have to find some weapons,” said Enjolras. “Or make makeshift ones, anything.”

“Let’s continue walking,” suggested Combeferre, “maybe we’ll find something once we get to the actual dungeon.”

“Okay, but hurry.” Muttered Courfeyrac, looking at the twig worriedly.

**_**

After a couple of minutes the tunnel finally widened out to an immense space -not that they could see it, but the air felt open, if a little humid. The twig was dangerously close to burning out now and Courfeyrac was close to tears.

“Hold on,” he muttered. “If we don’t find anything here in a minute, we’ll go back up, I promise.”

Courfeyrac nodded, but didn’t say anything.

They walked a few more meters before a sharp glint caught Enjolras’s eye. “There,” he cried, pointing in the direction the glint had come from. “Courfeyrac point the torch there.”

Courfeyrac did, and the moment the light hit the intended space a grin broke out on all their faces. Before them was a collection of weapons big enough to arm a small army, if somewhat poorly. But as they got closer, the smile faded from Enjolras’s face. The pile held every weapon someone could dream of; javelins, spears, knives, swords, everything except a bow and an arrow.

“There is no bow,” said Combeferre, coming to the conclusion a moment later.

“I realised,” he said coolly.

“Let’s not waste time,” said Courfeyrac quickly. “Enjolras, I’m sorry, but you’re terrible with all the weapons, and you’re more prone to hurting yourself than the enemy with them. Take a knife to defend yourself with it if necessary, but don’t use it unless it’s an absolute necessity. We can’t be sure if Asclepius will be willing to help after the stunt we’d just pulled.”

Enjolras scowled, but took a knife as instructed. Courfeyrac grabbed two knives and a spear, Combeferre following suit. As Courfeyrac made to turn round, Combeferre stopped him. “Wait,” he said and turned around to grab two more knives. “Give these to the men you’re planning on rescuing.”

Enjolras took them without a comment and they continued their way upwards.

**-**

“Goodluck,” said Combeferre, squeezing their shoulders in turn.

The clearing had been surprisingly empty, not that they’re complaining, but that didn’t mean they weren’t worried. They knew for a fact that no one will let them off easily, Zeus’s son or not, and the calm only increased their nerves.

“You too,” answered Courfeyrac with a small, apprehensive smile.

“Be careful,” said Enjolras.

Just as they were about to turn -Courfeyrac and Enjolras in a direction and Combeferre in another- Courfeyrac grabbed Combeferre and squeezed him in a tight hug. “Be careful,” he whispered, “but in the silence surrounding them, his voice was perfectly audible. “If things get dangerous, then abandon everything, you’re more important.”

Enjolras smiled and turned around to give them a moment. He gazed at the tower, a plan already forming in his head. He could climb the tower and help the men get down, but he didn’t have any rope on him and doubted that there was one within a hundred meter radius. Meaning he had to burn the tower down. But how was he supposed to do that without harming the men? This left him with one option; the vines. 

They were surrounded by plants from every side, so he could make one of them grow vines long enough to surround the tower. Then the men could climb down them. Perfect. Now if only he could convince Fortuna to side with him…

“You ready?” 

He looked up to see Courfeyrac grinning beside him, cheeks flushed. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked.

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “Come on, you have a princess to rescue.”

“And you a kitchen to rob.”

Courfeyrac laughed, he was clearly in a good mood. Nothing could bring him down, not even a murderous king with a Minotaur at his disposal. “I’d say I have it better.”

Enjolras seriously disagreed, but didn’t want to spoil his mood. 

“So is there anything that uncle of yours fancies? Or will common coffee do?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just get him the fanciest thing you can find, and get as much as you can carry without slowing down.”

**-**

They soon reached the tower and said their goodbyes. As Enjolras stepped into the area they were in earlier, the young man greeted him.

"Back so soon, Apollo?”

Enjolras scowled. “I’m here to show you that I keep my promises,” he said. “Can you climb vines?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, we can.” Said the older man, appariating beside the brunet. “But I must warn you, the moment the king realises we’re gone, he’ll set his guards after us and whoever helped us escape. Zeus’s son or not.”

“They guards are already on our tail,” muttered Enjolras as he closed his eyes, pooling his concentration on the plants around him. At first, nothing happened, but then he felt the plants expand around him, wrapping themselves around the tower. 

When he opened his eyes, the tower was wrapped in dark green vines, all going in one direction in order to make the descent downwards easier. Satisfied, he looked up at the men who were staring the vines in awe. 

The younger one, however, recovered quickly. “You could’ve just given me a heads up, you know. So I could grow my hair”-he shook his head so that his curls were impossible to ignore-”and you could play hero and rescue us.”

“Grantaire,” hissed the older man, elbowing him. 

The man -Grantaire- turned to the man with a raised eyebrow. “Father.”

So that was his father. 

“If you had long hair,” said Enjolras. “Your father would’ve been able to climb down.”

“Fun spoiler,” muttered the dark-curled man -Grantaire.

Enjolras ignored him and turned to the father. “I suggest you started climbing down now, sir,” he said. “I don’t know how much time we have left.

The man looked shocked for a moment when Enjolras called him sir, but he didn’t prone on it. 

“Grantaire, you go first.” Said the man.

Grantaire seemed to sober up at that. “Are you sure?” He asked. “We can go down together.”

His father smiled but shook his head. “I’m sure,” he said. 

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue but his father nudged him again and he obeyed. As the brunet climbed downwards, the father turned to Enjolras. “I have iron wings,” he said. “I don’t know how you plan to get us off the island, but I’m sure they’ll be of some help.”

“How many do you have?”

“Five-”

“Five!?!” He exclaimed. This was perfect, they were five in total, if each took a pair, and Combeferre blew the wind then they wouldn’t need to depend on Poseidon.

“Yes, five. But none of them are perfected, some have slightly tilted wings, others too little feathers. Though they can be of _ assistance _.”

Well, that was a disappointment, but it was something nonetheless. “Bring them along,” he said. “We can make use of them.”

“Alright, but how should carry them down?”

He had a point. 

“Apollo, here I come.” Said a gleeful voice. 

He looked up to see Grantaire a few meters from the ground- _ was he going to throw himself!?! _

He quickly took hold of a vine and climbed swiftly, wrapping an arm around Grantaire’s waist as soon as he was within reach. “Are you suicida?,” he hissed. He slowly got them both down and the moment Grantaire’s feet hit the ground he turned to him with a grin. “I wasn’t actually going to throw myself, you know. I just wanted to give you a chance to play hero.”

“Sure,” muttered Enjolras before returning to the idiot’s father.

“Do you think you can throw them?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the man.

He shook his head. “What if they break?”

“Since you’re obviously so good at climbing,” started Grantaire from beside behind him. “Why don’t you go get them down one by one.”

Enjolras scowled. “We’re short on time.”

“Well, it’s certainly more efficient -time wise- than standing here and wondering how to perform the trick all day.” 

What’s with people outsmarting him today? “Fine,” he hissed through gritted teach. He took hold of a vine and started climbing. 

“I’ll wear one on my down,” said Grantaire’s father once he was halfway up the tower. “So that’s one trip down. Leaving us with three, we’ll alternate with getting them down.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. If he was completely honest, he’d just realised that he hadn’t planned on how to get the wings down. He’d just wanted to prove Grantaire wrong.

“I’ll help you too,” said Grantaire. “You know, to save energy and all.”

Enjolras had to seriously restrain himself from banging his head against the wall. “Why couldn’t he have just gotten one down with him?”

“Because my father hadn’t mentioned them yet, dear Apollo.”

It was only after Grantaire had replied he’d realised that he’d spoken out loud. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Once he was on top of the tower he climbed into the window and Grantaire’s father handed him a pair of iron wings. “They’re heavy now,” said the man. “Though they will be feather-light once life has been blown into them.”

“And how is that done?” Asked Enjolras as fastend the wings and turned to the window once again.

“Through wind. We’ll just have to wait for a breeze, nothing strong. And at this time of the year, it shouldn’t be rare.”

“A friend of mine can control the wind actually,” said Enjolras as he took hold of vine once again. “So that shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

The man flashed him a grin. “Great.”

Up close, Enjolras could see the striking similarity between Grantaire and his father. They had the same hair colour -though his father’s was flat-, same eye colour and same grin -though his father’s wasn’t sarcastic.

**-**

Five minutes later, everyone was out of the tower and making their way back to the shore. They all had a pair of wings strapped on and, in Enjolras and Grantaire’s father’s case, another pair in their hands. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Enjolras as they neared the shore, stopping to pull out two knives from his pocket. “Incase we get attacked.” He said, handing a knife to each of the two men.

They both took them with a quite thank you -in Grantaire’s father’s case,at least, whom he really needed to find his name. Grantaire took it with a raised eyebrow. “And what makes you think we know how to throw a knife?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s the only thing available for now, take it or leave it.”

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue, but Enjolras was saved by their arrival at the shore. Combeferre had already lit the fire and was waiting for them, if somewhat impatiently. He opened his mouth to greet him when he felt a sharp slap on his back. He turned to shout at Grantaire -thinking it was him- but was greeted by Courfeyrac, who looked like he’d just escaped the grim reaper. Which, quite frankly, wouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“What happened?” He asked, taking the coffee bags from him and throwing them to Combeferre.

“Hellhounds,” panted Courfeyrac. “Hydras. Guards, with aflamed weapons.”

Enjolras didn’t need any further explanation. He turned to order to Combeferre to burn the coffee, but his friend was already on the task, so he turned to the rest. “Go to Combeferre,” he ordered. “He’ll get the wings started.”

They obliged with no comment. He then turned to Courfeyrac, holding out the pair of wings he’d been carrying to him. “Put these on,” he said. “They’ll help in the escape.” Courfeyrac looked confused, but to his credit, didn’t comment. 

He then turned towards the sea and closed his eyes, praying silently. _ Please accept our tribute, uncle, and have our back if our plans fail. _He didn’t feel a sense of peace spread through him, but then against, he hadn’t expected to.

"Enjolras!”

He turned to Combeferre, but then heard a roaring sound behind him. He turned to see two hellhounds pounding towards him, fangs bared. Behind them, there was a hell-hound with at least eight heads, with every and each last one focused on Enjolras.

He immediately turned on his heels and turned towards his friends as he reached for the knife in his pocket that he knew would be of no use. The wings on his back, however, slowed him down, and a hell-hound caught up with him, pouncing on his back and pinning him to the ground.

He heard a couple of voices call out his name, but his mind was focused on the knife in his hand, currently trapped between his body and the sand. The beast’s breath was warm on his back, sending shivers down his body. It didn’t look like it wanted to harm him, just to hold him captive. With an effort, he managed to wriggle out the knife and slash one of the dog’s paws.

It let out a cry of agony, distracted for a moment. Leaping at the chance, Enjolras immediately stood up, throwing the beast off his back. But it took hold of his shirt before he was out of its reach. He ignored its hold on him, willing himself to move in the opposite direction. He then heard a ripping sound and knew that it was his shirt, if the sudden lightness was anything to go by.

He ran to his friends, who were gathered a couple of meters away from the shore. The moment he was within reach, Combeferre told them to make a beeline for the sea on three. 

“One,” he said. “Two...three!”

They all set out on a run at the signal, and just as they were about to reach the sea, Enjolras felt himself being lifted, a cool wind blowing against his back. He looked at the others to see that they were with him, and threw Combeferre a grin, who smiled shyly.

Their happiness, however was short lived. 

A spear flew past Enjolras’s head, coming closer than the that was thrown at him this morning. He didn’t want to know what’ll happen with the next one.

Combeferre paled and closed his eyes, concentrating on something. 

Another spear flew towards him, but he felt himself being pulled by someone before he had a chance to react. He struggled against his captor, trying to writhe out of his hold. He managed to loosen his hold on him when he was pushed to the side, his captor letting go of him. Confused, he turned to look at his captor- only to see Grantaire’s father falling to the sea, a spear buried in his chest.

“Dad!” Cried Grantaire, making a move to go after his father. 

Enjolras grabbed him before he could do anything rash, wrapping his arms around his chest. “There’s nothing you can do, Grantaire.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

But Grantaire shook his head, struggling to get out of his grip. “Let me go,” he pleaded “I can save him.”

He only tightened his hold on him as his father splashed into the sea, disappearing without a trace. 

Grantaire let out a cry of anguish. “Dad!” He screamed, struggling to get out of his grip more than ever. “He’s still alive, please, let me go after him.”

He shook his head silently as Grantaire broke down in sobs against him. As they drifted away from the island, one last bitter thought ran through his head; _ thanks a million, uncle. _

**Author's Note:**

> ...Sorry for the long chapter? I'll try my best to not make the following chapters as long.
> 
> Now that we have this out of the way, I want to say that I am no expert on Greek mythology (as you might've already figured out). So I'm probably gonna make major changes, though I'll try my best to point them out. And I also want to thank EnjolrasTheRevolutionary for giving me the basics to get get started on this thing. Oh, and that was my first time writing an action scene, so be gentle please :)  
.  
Comment and Kudos are encouraged, no flames though!  
.  
P.S. Check out my [tumblr!](https://enjoltaire-is-canon.tumblr.com/%22)


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